The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1887-02-02
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Mrs. Randolph sighed:
81 think you are foolish to let your
broken engagement with Rolph Essen
influence your future"
s'It does not. Such natures as mine
live but once, and -" then she bit her
lip to control further speech.
"By-the- way, 1 hear he has returned.
I hope you can meet him without max
ing scene. You know your weakness. "
Francia's lip curlcd scornfully, then
she looked steadily at her mother, who
shifted her eyes uncasily.
"My weakness, then, is that love
him. Is that what you mean, mother2'
Mrs. Randolph responded family:
eyes"
"Then console yourself, for I neither
love nor hate him."
Mrs. Randolph said no more, but left
the room with a feeling of vague uneasl'
ness.
eff she would only forget the mani
How can tell whether she loves him or
not? How can tell how she will meet
him2 But meet him she must, poor, pas
sionate-hcarted girl and no one can sus-
tain her."
The blrthnight fete passed off success
fully. Franch was lovely IN garnet vel
vet and cream satin, and her arms and
neck cleaned like pink-tinted marble; :;
but her face wore its usual statuesquc
coldness-the GOODNESS that had only be-
come habitual since her recovery from
her illness.
An Englishman was much attracted
by her great beauty but her frisidity re-
She has no soul. She freezes me-"
''She is all ;ul. You do not possess
the magic key to open the caskct," said
q friend.
The Englishman assentcd Indifferent
ly, and went his way; but fate had
marked him.
1t was during the summer. while the
Randolph family were residing at their
country home, that Francia met the man
whom she had once so madly worshiped.
He came purposcly to see her
81 supposed, Francia, you had heard Of
nv arrival, and I thought owed it to
you to see you once more" he said. as
she entered the room and he rose to
greet her.
"Why?" she asked, looking not at
him, but at his card which she had
brought with her. She did not take the
hand he held out to her. Man of the
world that he was, he seemed to become
confused at her simple query.
"My reason should be plain to you"
"Why!' she asked again, slowly tear
ing into bits the card in her hand.
lie SHIFTED his position, then came up
to her and laid his fingers on her de-
structiye ones.
".Sit down. 1t is ridiculous for us to
60 on this way, and I have much to say
to YOU"
She freed her hand from his trembling
fingers, and for the first time lifted her
eyes to his.
Il cannot understand what you could
possibly have to say to me that would
sufficiently interest me to such an cx-
tent that l should be kept standing long.
DO you sit down, hut prefer to stand"
lie wet his dry lip', and at tir.t his
vol c wa hu ky, but as he proceeded it
beca re clearer and stronger.
''Frantia, | have come to beg your
pardon. You would not give me my
freedom when q ked, or, rather, took
it, and now I am glad that you did not.
thought I wa; tired of your love-I
thought could ca lily forget you. I
went a far as to make love to Gene Re-
nard, the woman for who sake you so
bitterly upbra:dcd me the day we parted;
but >hc laughed at me- and then knew
how had wrongcd you. / would have
gone back to you then, but pride was
stronger than love. went abroad, mean
ing to return in year, but two year;
went by before could decide what was
be It for me to do. Now | have ccme
back-I o k you to be my wife-I ask
you to love me and forgive any >utfering
may have caused you.
He went closer to her, but she put out
one hand imDeratively. In the other
hand the tiny bits of his viiting card
lay in confused mass.
"Do you think you could piece to-
gcthcr this card and make it as spotless,
as brilliant, as perfect, as it was one hour
ago2" she asked.
His hand closed spasmodically over
hers.
'Francia, do not torture me-do not
be cruel! know that you love me"
"Stop" she cried, imperiously, fling
ing out her hand and scattering the torn
card in white shower over the floor.
"Now must speak plainly. Just as i'm
possible as it is for you to restore the
bloom to the grape which you have
handled too roughly, just as impossible
is it for me to love you. Once would
have given my life fol you I would
have been your slave for sweet loves
sake. But you outraged my love, and
turned my worship to Indifference, which
is more to be feared than hate. l gave
you all-and lost it! And now 1 have
nothing to give you, or any man. De-
spair has darkcned my soul, slain my
youth, killed Joy, and hope, 'and faith!
Never again will l love- Never again
will woman love you as I did; but you
threw it away--you tramplcd it under
your feet as if it were something too base
for use. And now you stoop to regain
it, and I tell you it is too late, too late"
Slowing turning. she left him. He
stood with his head bent upon his hand
for moment, then he, too, left the room.
Too late, for ever too late to win the
priceless boon of this zone that was
woman SIR"
Five vooro oftarword Froncia Randolnh